


Misery

by rangerwray



Category: Maroon 5, The Voice RPF
Genre: Agoraphobia, Alternate Universe, Anxiety Disorder, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Shevine, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nobody is famous, Slow Build, hurt!adam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:46:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rangerwray/pseuds/rangerwray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: Alternate Universe: neither are famous/no the Voice. Really hurt!Adam. Divorced!Blake.<br/>Summary: Blake moves into an apartment after separating from Miranda, where he meets his agoraphobic neighbor, Adam. Can Blake help Adam get past his fears? Or is Adam confined to a life where he'll never see the outside of their apartment complex again?<br/>(A person with agoraphobia fears being in places where there is a chance of having a panic attack that people may witness, and getting away rapidly may be difficult.)<br/>Trust me, the story will be a lot better than my crappy summary :)) I hope anyways...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I am in misery...

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I am no expert in agoraphobia; all I know about it comes from research. Please take head of this as you read. Also, while it is rated explicit, nothing ~sexual~ will happen until later chapters.
> 
> This is un-beta'd. Any and all mistakes are my fault.
> 
> Chapter titles come from Misery by Maroon 5.

(*)

“I really hate you.”

“Shut the hell up, Brad, and lift your goddamn end. I'm carrying dead weight up here.” Blake grunted, shifting his grip on the sofa.

“It's not my fault you decided to live on the _fourth floor_ of a complex that doesn't have a working elevator.”

Blake seriously thought about dropping the sofa. This wasn't the first time Brad had brought up that little fact. “You idiot. A sofa wouldn't be able to fit in an elevator anyway.”

After more grunting and (on Brad's part anyway) whining, they finally got the sofa settled into Blake's new apartment, where piles of boxes and cases already sat. The pair flopped down onto the couch with heavy sighs. After a few minutes of silence, Brad said, “You're really lucky that I love you. And that I have nothing better to do on a Saturday.”

“Whatever, man,” Blake slid into an easy smile. “You would have done it regardless.”

“Anything for my best friend,” Brad agreed. “The circumstances suck, though.”

Blake's smile faded as he thought of Miranda. “Yeah,” Blake said quietly.

Brad, sensing Blake's change in mood, changed the subject, “Hey, man, come on. There's only a couple of boxes left.”

Blake shook his head, as if it could dispel that bad memories, and followed Brad back downstairs.

 

(*) 

Blake had spent the morning inviting most of his neighbors in the complex to a small housewarming he was going to hold the following weekend. He only had one neighbor left, the one next to his apartment. Being in an end unit he only had one legitimate neighbor.

Blake had an odd feeling when he approached the door, the apartment had an air of heterodoxy. He shook it off and knocked anyway.

He had asked some of the other people on the floor about his neighbor, seeing as he had been living in the apartment for almost a week and never had so much as a glimpse of the person.

Christina, a young woman that lived down the hall from Blake, had said that the person never left their apartment, ever. She suspected that they were a spy or perhaps an undercover cop. Cee Lo, another of his neighbors, said that no one lived there but Blake knew that was a lie because he had seen packages at the door when he left the complex that were gone when he came back. And Carson said that he'd someone move out months ago, but never saw someone move in after. Blake found that odd. How could someone move in without anybody noticing?

Whoever lived there didn't answer at first, so Blake knocked again. One thing about Blake, he was a stubborn bastard and he wasn't going to take no (or silence) for an answer. He knocked a couple of more times and was about to knock again when the door opened, barely a crack. Blake saw a flash of green eyes hidden behind thick, black framed glasses before the door opened wider a couple of inches.

Through the wider gap, Blake could see his neighbors full face. His thick glasses hovered over strong cheekbones and a long, straight nose. Even though the man was very good looking (Blake's “straight” set of mind would not let him go beyond that) he looked tired, like he hadn't had a good sleep in a long while.

“Uhm...” Blake seemed to have forgotten why he had even knocked. The man looked at him warily, like he had half the mind to shut the door in his face. Blake pulled himself out of it, reminding himself of why he was there. “Uhm, hi. My name is Blake, and I just moved in. I'm having a little party this weekend, and was wondering if you wanted to come?”

The neighbor stared at him for awhile, like he couldn't comprehend what Blake was saying. After what seemed like an unnaturally long time, the man mumbled, “I do not do parties.”

Blake was not sure how to respond. “It...it'll be fun. Just trust me; I want to get to know my neighbors.”

“I do not do parties.” The man said again, and began closing the door.

“Wait!” Blake said, startling the man who paused before the door could close. “Hey, man, you should at least give me your name.”

Blake swore he could see a faint tremor go through the man. “My name...my name is Adam.”

“Hello, Adam.” Blake gave the clearly distressed man a friendly smile and held out his hand.

Adam stared at his hand like it was a brand and jerked away. Blake saw him begin to shake, and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. He pulled his hand away and said, “Hey, man, what's wrong? Are you oka-”

“I must go now,” Adam said abruptly, cutting Blake off. The door was promptly closed in his face.

Blake frowned, confused about what he had done to offend the man. He let out a heavy sigh and turned to go to his apartment.

 

(*)

Blake had his party that weekend, but he was still haunted by his neighbor's- Adam's- actions. Blake had invited everyone on his floor, and a couple of people he had met on other floors while moving in. About eight people had shown up, and the party was flowing nicely. Although, Blake was not much in the partying mood. The only reason why he went through with the party was mainly because he invited everyone already.

“Man, that Christina is a _fox_ ,” Brad said as he settled next to Blake on the couch. Brad was smiling like a doof, but Blake couldn't find it in himself to care.

“Hey, are you okay?” Brad looked at his friend with concern. “You've been off all night.”

“It's nothing it's just...” Blake sighed. “I tried to invite my neighbor- Adam- the other day. He kind of freaked a little, and it's bothering me.”

“Freaked how?”

“Well, when I first asked, he got the shakes and he said that he 'doesn't do parties'. I got his name out of him, but when I tried to shake his hand, he jerked away like I was going to slap him or something. When I tried to tell him it was okay, he closed the door in my face.”

Brad was frowning as he listened, and he shook his head as Blake finished. “Don't mess with him. He sounds kind of messed up, and you don't need that right now, especially with what you have going on with Miranda.”

Blake bristled; both at the mention of Miranda ans the way Brad was laying in on Adam. “Look, Brad, don't be a douche about it, okay? Maybe Adam just needs a friend.”

Brad lifted his hands in surrender. “Whatever. I don't think you should mess with it.”

Blake scowled into his drink. Brad just didn't understand; Blake couldn't just leave something alone like that. Adam had obviously been hurt, and Blake wanted to know why.

Brad got up and left, realizing he would get nothing more out of Blake.

And so the party continued. Blake mingled with his guests, but couldn't bring himself completely into it. He didn't think that anybody noticed, but in truth they had.

 

(*) 

Blake found himself thinking of Adam for a lot of the following week. He didn't know why, but his neighbor held him transfixed. He wanted to know why Adam was so hurt, what made him lock himself inside his apartment and not come back out. And most of all, he wanted to help.

Which explained how Blake now found himself in front of Adam's door once again. And so he knocked. And knocked some more. Adam obviously was wary of answering the door. But, as said before, Blake was a stubborn bastard.

He continued knocking for several minutes until the door cracked open. Blake caught sight of bright green again, and his heart gave an inexplicable twinge. Adam didn't say a thing, just watched Blake cautiously.

Blake realized he would have to be the one to break the silence, and so he began with a simple greeting. “Hello, Adam.” He gave him a bright smile, hoping to coax a response.

“Hello,” Adam said quietly, voice just slightly hoarse.

“How are you?”

Adam froze at the question, clearly not expecting it. “I'm...I'm fine. How..are you?”

Blake smiled brightened. This was already progress from their last encounter. “I'm great. Can I come in?”

Adam froze again, hand tightening on the door. Blake saw tremors travel down his arms and sweat dew at his temples. Blake felt sorry for him, he was clearly out of his element. “Wait, no, its okay we can talk out here.”

Tension fled from Adam's body and the tremors ceased. “What...What can I do for you, Blake?” His voice was so quiet and sounded so fragile, like it could break any second.

“I just wanted to talk. Since you weren't able to come to my party. I'd still like to get to know you.”

Adam eyed him like he was speaking another language. “Why?” It was so hushed that Blake could barely hear it.

That simple word did not break Blake's heart, no it did not. Blake shrugged, because he really didn't have an answer. “I don't know you seem like a cool dude. And everyone needs new friends, right?”

The second the words left his mouth, Blake realized he had said the wrong thing.

The tremors started again but with more force, and Blake could see Adam's muscles bunch and clench under the fabric of his shirt. Blake wasn't sure what exactly was happening, but having seen glimpses of it, he went on a whim and put one of his large hands on Adam's shoulder, trying to offer a small bit of comfort.

“Adam, hey, it's okay, it's okay, hey.” Adam just looked at him, those big green eyes wide, body shaking. “Do you want me to leave? I can leave if you want me to...” Adam didn't say anything, so Blake continued talking. “Or I can stay, if you want, I can stay and talk to you if that would help.”

As Blake continued talking, Adam's shaking had slowed and he took a deep breath. “That would...be okay.” Even though he had said that, he didn't move away from the door.

Blake never ran away from a chance to run his mouth, and so he kept on talking. “So, what exactly starts your...attacks? Is that what you'd call them? I've been thinking about it a lot since we first talked.”

Adam had calmed down enough to respond, and he took another deep breath before doing so. “I can't...I don't want to talk about that yet,” his eyes dropped to the floor.

“Hey, yeah, that's okay. We can get to it with time if you want to.”

They were silent for a short while, Adam standing in the door and Blake standing in the hallway. “Yeah, so...” Blake switched awkwardly from foot to foot. “Can I come in?”

Adam lifted his head to meet Blake's eyes again. He hovered warily for a second, but then stepped back, widening the door to stride through.

And while it wasn't much, Blake knew this was still progress, probably more interaction than Adam had had in a long while, and he walked inside.


	2. ...and there ain't nobody who can comfort me...

(*)

Blake's apartment was covered in little balled up pieces of paper. He was trying to write Adam a note, saying he wanted to hang out, but he couldn't seem to get the words right. He was usually good with words, writing wise anyway, but here he was stumped. Every letter he wrote he either felt too vague or too straightforward. He couldn't find a happy medium and it was driving him _insane._

He wanted to write a note instead of doing it in person because it seemed like every time he talked to Adam, it triggered an attack. While he usually got over it pretty quickly, Blake knew it still hurt and probably traumatized him a little bit every time. He figured a note would make things easier on the both of him.

This way it also made it easier for Adam to say no. Blake was constantly afraid that Adam only agreed to talk to him and, sometimes, hung out with him because he didn't want, or know how, to say no.

 

_Adam-_

 

_I was wondering if you'd like to hang out. We can stay in your apartment again, if you'd like. I really think we could become great friends if you'd give me the chance._

 

_-Blake_

 

It wasn't anything close to perfect, but Blake knew it was the best he was going to get out of it. He folded the note into a small square and wrote _Adam_ across the front of it. Blake sighed, wary of how this was going to turn out.

_Might as well get it over with_ , he thought and got up from his makeshift desk. He had yet to assemble his new one and was using a stray piece of ply board stacked on top of two cardboard boxes. It worked for the moment.

He ventured out into the hallway and stopped in front of Adam's door, biting his lip. _Just slip it under the door,_ he thought to himself. _He'll see it eventually_. Blake finally threw caution to the wind and stooped down, stuffing the note under the door. He then ran back into his apartment with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

 

(*)

Blake spent the rest of his day watching his door. Or, rather, the floor in front of his door. He felt like an idiot, but he didn't want to leave his apartment or do anything else in case he missed Adam's letter, or if he was lucky, Adam might come over in person. He didn't want to give Adam the time to lose his nerve.

About four and a half hours after Blake had delivered his note, there was a scuffle outside his front door. He watched and listened in earnest. The noise down and a folded sheet of yellow legal paper was thrust under the door. It fluttered a bit and landed a couple of feet in front of the door. Blake heard more scuffling before he heard the door to Adam's apartment slam closed.

Blake got up from his couch and walked over to where the paper had landed, heart lodged in his throat. He knelt down to pick it up and sat cross-legged on the ground to read it. Adam's scrawl was messy, like he had been shaking as he wrote. There were a lot of things crossed and scribbled out and it made Blake's stomach clench. He thought this would be _easier_ for Adam.

 

_Blake-_

 

_I am sorry but ~~I do not believe~~ I don't think we would have anything common and ~~that's what makes friends~~ that's how people bond. I would wish to be friends but ~~I don't want to disappoint you~~ I don't want you to have to deal with my problems._

 

_-Adam_

 

The whole thing made Blake sick to his stomach. Adam was obviously having a hard time with this and it made Blake feel guilty that he was causing it, but he wanted to help Adam.

So, no, Blake wasn't going to give up on Adam, not yet. He got up from the floor and headed back to his “desk”, setting Adam's letter off to the side. He grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and began writing another note.

 

_Adam-_

 

_How do you know we don't have anything in common? We've only hung out together once and we didn't talk that much. In order to know what we do or do not have in common, we have to talk about it._

 

_I myself like to hunt and fish. I love going camping. Pretty much anything outdoorsy. I also play a bit of guitar and I write songs. They're mostly country because, as you've probably noticed, I'm a hick. There's a bit of classic rock mixed in there, too._

 

_Now you know what I like to do so you can make a comparison and see if we really have anything in common or not._

 

_-Blake_

 

Blake smiled to himself as he folded the note up and took it out in the hall, shoving it under Adam's door.

 

(*)

The response this time came much quicker, only about fifteen minutes, and Blake wasted no time waiting to read the letter. He flipped it open and began reading. The scrawl this time was less messy and there were fewer things crossed out, which meant Adam wasn't as nervous. Progress.

 

_Blake-_

 

_~~I also like~~ I like to write songs, as well. ~~I don't like going outdoors.~~ I don't listen to much country but I like classic rock._

 

_-Adam_

 

The letter was short, but Blake wasn't going to complain. At least he had gotten a response.

 

_Adam-_

 

_Great! We can compare songs. And listen to classic rock. See, we do have stuff in common. And just you wait, I'll make a country boy out of you yet._

 

_-Blake_

 

This time, instead of going back to his room after slipping the note under Adam's door, he waited in the hallway for Adam to come out with his response letter. It was kind of an asshole move, but Blake was kind of an asshole so it worked. 

Blake's heart pounded as the door to Adam's apartment opened up. Adam nearly jumped three feet in the air when he saw Blake and he let out a gasp that morphed into squeak.

“I'm so sorry,” Blake said, and he actually meant it. “I-I didn't mean to scare you like that,” But Blake couldn't control the small smile that curled his lips at Adam's reaction.

Blake could practically see poor Adam's heart thudding beneath his shirt and sweat was starting to dew around his temples. “What are you doing here?” Adam was having obvious trouble trying to force out the words, and it made Blake feel horrible.

“I just wanted to see you,” Blake felt a bit deflated. He wasn't expecting such a violent reaction. “I wanted to talk to you...about the whole music thing...I'm sorry.”

“It's alright,” Adam said, but it obviously wasn't. “I...I just was not expecting you.”

“I guess now wouldn't be a great time, then.”

“No, it wouldn't,” Tremors were starting to go down Adam's shoulders.

“Hey, it's okay, um...” Blake paused for a moment. “What about tomorrow night? Would that be okay?”

Adam took a while to respond; he was trying to calm himself down, Blake supposed. “That would be...alright.”

Blake was suddenly very, very happy. “Awesome,” he breathed, smile wide. “What time?”

Adam takes a deep breath. “How about...seven?” The _is that okay?_ Goes unspoken but Blake can hear it.

“That's fine, perfect,” Blake grinned. “Alright, I'll see you then.” Blake turned to go back to his apartment. He took about half a step before he heard a quiet, “Wait,”

Blake turned back around with a raised eyebrow to find Adam further outside his door- farther than Blake had ever seen him come out. He looks awkward, like he's going to bolt back into his apartment at any second. “I, um,” Adam stuttered a bit before thrusting a piece of paper towards Blake, who took it immediately, curious. Adam's hand dropped back to his side. “That's, um, it's one of my songs.” His gaze drops to the floor. “I thought you might...want to see it.”

But before Blake could respond, Adam retreated back into his apartment and slammed the door closed. Blake would be offended in any other circumstance, but these circumstances were extremely different and he knew that was a huge step for Adam. He looked down at the folded paper in his hands and couldn't fight the huge smile straining his cheeks.

 

(*)

_Danced all night_

_Slept all day_

_Careless with my heart again_

_Fearless when it comes to playing games_

 

_You don't cry_

_You don't care_

_Afraid to have a love affair_

_Is that your ghost or are you really there?_

 

_Now I can't walk_

_I can't talk_

_Anymore since you walked out the door_

_And now I'm stuck_

_Living out that night again_

_I'm not falling apart_

 

_Whither on a sunny_

_Time slows down_

_I wish you'd stay_

_Pass me by in crowded dark hallways_

 

_I try my hardest not to scream_

_I find my heart is growing weak_

_So leave your reasons on the bathroom sink_

 

_Now I can't walk_

_I can't talk_

_Anymore since you walked out the door_

_And now I'm stuck_

_Living out that night again_

_I'm not falling apart_

 

_I hear you say you needed me_

_Now what's the problem?  
I can't see_

_You destroyed me_

_I won't fall apart again_

_I'm not falling apart_

 

_Take what you wanted_

_I will be just fine_

_You will be better off_

_Alone at night_

 

_Reeling and falling_

_Constantly calling_

_Out your name_

_Will it ever change?_

 

_Now I can't walk_

_I can't talk_

_Anymore since you walked out the door_

_And now I'm stuck_

_Living out that night again_

_I'm not falling apart_

 

_I hear you say you needed me_

_Now what's the problem?  
I can't see_

_You destroyed me_

_I won't fall apart again_

_I'm not falling apart_

 

(*)

Blake read the lyrics over and over the rest of the night. First he just read them, then he tried to put them to a tune in his head, and he eventually tried to picture how Adam would sound singing the words.

The first time he read it through, it almost made him want to cry. The words were so heartfelt and Blake could tell Adam put feeling behind every single word. The second time he read it, he realized it could be an explanation as to how Adam's attacks started, that this could be Adam rationalizing to himself.

After he realized that, he had to set them aside and came back to them after he made himself supper and downed a beer, giving himself time to process.

He also realized that he can very much relate to Adam's lyrics with his situation with Miranda. It's after that that he decides it's time to go to bed.

He laid down in bed with the lyrics running through his head and fell asleep mumbling them to himself.


	3. ...why won't you answer me?...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it has been so long since I have updated. School has been crazy and my muse ran away for awhile there. She decided to come back long enough to let me crank out this chapter for you guys :) I hope you enjoy it and that it makes up for the long delay.

(*)

Blake was so excited about seeing Adam that it was the first thing he told Brad when they met up for a late breakfast at a little Mom and Pop diner just outside of town.

Brad, however, was not nearly as happy as Blake was.

“Man, I _told_ you to leave the guy alone. He's probably crazy or something.” Brad admonished, a scowl forming as he takes a drink of his coffee.

“He is _not_ crazy.” Blake shot back instantly, feeling defensive. “He's just had a rough time of it.”

“Oh, he's had a rough time of it? So he's just gonna lock himself up for the rest of eternity because, what? He got his heart broken?”

“Don't be such a dick.” Blake kicked Brad's leg under the table. Hard. “Everyone deals with things differently. Maybe it's hard for him to, I don't know. Compartmentalize.”

“Big word for a redneck,” Brad teased.

“Shut up. I'm being serious.” Blake sighed before scooping up a forkful of hash browns. “You just don't understand.” He said before shoving the fork into his mouth.

“You're sure as hell right, I don't understand,” Brad agreed conceded, downing the rest of his coffee. “But I'm also a country boy. And we're built tough.”

Blake nodded and didn't answer, pushing his food around on his plate. He suddenly wasn't very hungry anymore.

(*)

Blake headed back to his apartment after breakfast with Brad, feeling dejected and more than a little hurt. Why couldn't Brad see why this is important?

He went by his mailbox, grabbing the couple of envelopes inside, before heading up the stairs to his apartment. He flopped across his couch, thumbing through his mail when he came across a thick envelope with IMPORTANT LEGAL INFORMATION printed across the front of it. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he probably already knew what it was. The return address pretty much confirmed it.

He stuck his finger under the flap and pulled it open, already dreading what was coming. He slid the papers out of the envelope, immediately realizing he had been correct in his assumption. Miranda had sent him their divorce papers via mail. He spent a good amount of time reading through the fine print, not understanding a word of it, and when he glanced up toward his clock, he realized it was getting close to time for him to go over to Adam's. The thought of seeing Adam again made him a little bit happier, but his mood had effectively been dampened for the evening. He knew he couldn't back out on Adam, though. It was hard enough for Blake to get Adam to see him again, and he wasn't going to piss it away.

After getting up off the couch, Blake went over to the door where he had stashed his boots. He stepped into them, pulling them on and shoving the bottoms of his jeans over them, and eyed the small notebook that he kept his lyrics in that was laying on the table. He had stuffed Adam's lyrics just inside the front cover. On a whim, he grabbed it before heading out the door. Adam showed him some of his, it was only fair that Blake showed him some of his own.

(*)

Blake spent a good five minutes staring at the outside of Adam's door, an icy pit slowly forming in his stomach. Was this a good idea? Was Brad right? Should he even try messing with Adam?

He squelched the thoughts with a shake of his head. Of course Brad wasn't right, he hardly ever was. Blake sighed and raised his hand to knock on the door. Before his knuckles connected with the door, though, some whistled from down the hall and called out, “What do you think you're doing?”

Blake pulled his hand back and turned to see who was interrupting him. Christina was standing in the doorway of her apartment, leaning with her hip against the frame and her arms crossed under her boobs. She was wearing an itty-bitty black tank top that rode up her stomach and and even ittier-bittier matching boy shorts that showcased her long legs. He blonde curls were pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and she was staring at him with a mix of a glare and appreciation. “What's it matter to you?” Blake called back, frustrated at being disrupted.

“That guy never comes out of his apartment.” She responded coolly, not answering his question. “If you're looking for a chat, you're not going to have any luck there.”

“So what? You wanting me to chat with you instead?” He frowned at her, crossing his arms and tucking the small notebook into his armpit.

“I wouldn't be opposed to it.” She looked him up and down, appraising him in a way that made him feel more naked than she was. “You'd have more fun with me, anyway, instead of standing in front of that door all night.”

“For your information, I've got plans with Adam so I won't be standing out here all night.” _I hope,_ he finished in his head.

“Adam? His name is Adam?” She smiled quite devilishly. “How'd you get that out of him? I've lived here for nearly two years and I've only caught glimpses of him. You've only been here, what? A month?”

Blake ignored her, turning back to Adam's door and knocking on it with more force than was really necessary. He heard the door to Christina's apartment close and he was slightly surprised she hadn't stayed out to eavesdrop. He knocked on the door again, this time more softly.

The door creaked open slowly before Adam peeked out, looking disheveled and oddly covered up, compared to what Christina had been. “Hello,” Adam greeted quietly, pushing his glasses back up to the top of his nose.

“Hi,” Blake responded awkwardly. “I-”

“Who were you talking to?” Adam interrupted, looking pointedly at the space just below Blake's eyes.

“Uhm,” Blake paused, caught off guard. “What?”

“Who were you talking to? I could hear you through the door.” Adam explained monotonously, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Oh,” A small blush crept up Blake's cheeks, and he wasn't sure why. “Uhm. I was talking to Christina?” It came out more like a question than anything else. “She lives down the hallway...”

“I know who she is.” Adam interjected, tone strangely clipped.

“Okay,” That confused Blake, considering Christina had no idea who he was. “Can I...can I come in?”

Adam didn't answer straight away, but Blake hadn't really expected him to. “I guess. If...you still want to?” Adam wasn't stuttering or shaking near as much as he typically did. Blake took that as a good sign.

“Of course I do,” Blake responded with a smile. “I wouldn't have come over if I hadn't wanted to.”

Adam nodded, his mouth forming a deep line. He pulled the door open wider and motioned at Blake. “Come in,” he said softly.

(*)

Things had been awkward at first, but Blake was known for his motor-mouth so he just kept talking. After awhile, Adam gained enough courage to start to join in. They sat at Adam's dining table with mugs of coffee that Adam had brewed. Blake talked about finally getting settled into his apartment and Adam quietly asked him why he had moved here.

“Well,” Blake started, scratching the back of his head. “It's not that great of a story, but..” He paused again, organizing his thoughts. “My wife and I are both very into music,” Adam jerked slightly at the new information, but Blake continued on. “But she was always more successful than I was. She played gigs around town and had her own little back up band and all that. I went out on a hunting trip with a few of my buddies for a week. She stayed behind. I should have known something was up because she usually came with us, but,” Blake shrugged noncommittally. “I came home a couple of days early because we hadn't been doing very well on the hunt. I missed my wife and was really just ready to come home.” Blake sighed, tightening his grip on his mug. “She apparently didn't miss me that much. I walked in on her having sex with her band's drummer.” Blake dropped his gaze to the coffee table, eyeing the dents and scratches in its surface. “We filed for divorce the next day. I packed my stuff within the next week and found an apartment out here in the city. I got the divorce papers in the mail this morning.” Blake shrugged again, scuffing his boot against the floor.

“Oh,” Adam said as Blake finished. “I-I didn't realize. I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it,” Blake reassured. “Shit happens, I guess.”

They were both quiet for a moment, until Adam spoke up again. “I used to study law, before...” Adam broke off, unsure of how to phrase it.

“I understand,” Blake said, curious as to where this was going. “Go on,”

A slight tremor shook through Adam's frame, but he pushed through it and continued on. “I u-used to study law. I...I almost graduated.” Adam took a deep breath. “I could take a look at the divorce papers, if you wanted me to. I could help translate the legal speak. If you wanted me to.” Adam repeated, hands tightening around his mug like Blake's had before.

“What, you think because I'm hick I can't read through legal documents?” Blake asked with a small chuckle, no heat in his words.

Adam hadn't picked up on it, though. “No!” he cried out, the loudest Blake had ever heard him. “No, that's not what I meant at all. I-I-I-” Adam spluttered and Blake cut him off.

“Whoa! Chill out, it's okay! I was only joking.” Blake tried to explain, but Adam had started shaking again. Blake got up from his chair, leaving his mug on the table, and walked around to Adam's side. He kneeled down beside him, putting a hand on Adam's shaking arm. Adam's fingers clenched at the side of the table, nails digging into the surface. Blake suddenly realized why there were so many scratches etched into the table. The thought made him feel sick. “Hey, it's okay.”

Involuntary tears brimmed in Adam's eyes and he squeezed them shut, trying to force them back. Without even thinking about it, Blake raised himself up slightly, wrapping as arm around Adam. With his free hand, he pulled Adam's head to his chest, kissing his forehead chastely.

He realized his mistake immediately.

Adam froze up, muscles binding and clenching together. He pushed Blake away and stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over with a loud clatter. Adam backed away from Blake like he was poison, shaking harder than ever.

“I'm-” Blake began, trying to apologize, but Adam cut him off.

“G-get out.” He said, pointing one shaking hand towards the door. “P-p-please. Please leave.”

“Adam, I-” _I don't want to leave. Let me help you. I'm sorry._ They all died on his face at the pleading and agony on Adam's face.

“Please, B-Blake.”

Blake rose from his spot on the floor, heart aching in his chest. With one last look at Adam, he headed towards the door. Adam followed behind him, closing the door with a sharp, loud _bang_ as soon as he was out of it. Blake stared at the door again, like he had at the beginning of the night. He half expected Christina to come out and investigate, but she never did.

Blake finally gathered the sense of mind to head back to his own apartment. It wasn't until he was already inside that he realized he had left his notebook behind.


End file.
